You know the dream.
Yes, you know the one.
The one where everything is okay again,
And you're in bed and you turn and hug me.
The one where the world spins again,
And your hair smells of warm blankets and coffee.
Well, it keeps repeating, like images in a zoetrope,
Round and round and round,
And back to the beginning.
But every time it starts I forget that there's always an end.
I pulled out an old picture of you.
Would you care if I said that too many years have passed?
I stared at it, and I thought of yellow and hot cocoa and expensive shoes,
And I asked you why it's been so long.
I started this poem with some inspiration,
But then I lost the words,
Like I lost the hope.
And I forget what it was like,
And I forget that there's always an end,